In Heaven, When The Blessed Use The

The Crown Of Literature Is Poetry. It Is Its End And Aim. It Is The Sublimest Activity Of The Human Mind. It Is The Achievement Of Beauty And Delicacy. The Writer Of Prose Can Only Step Aside When The Poet Passes.

If It Is Necessary Sometimes To Lie To Others, It Is Always Despicable To Lie To Oneself.

It Requires The Feminine Temperament To Repeat The Same Thing Three Times With Unabated Zest.

Do You Absolutely Despise Me, Walter?" "no." He Hesitated And His Voice Was Strange. "i Despise Myself.

Thank God, I Can Look At A Sunset Now Without Having To Think How To Describe It